Blue Steel
by Crimson and Chrome 42
Summary: What do Zoe Plummer and Abby Scuito have in common? A lot more than you might think. Disclaimers implied. Ratings may change.
1. Chapter 1

Blue Steel

By Crimson and Chrome 42

**Summary: What do Zoe Plummber and Abby Scuito have in common? A lot more than you might think. Disclaimers implied. Ratings may change.**

**__________________________________________________________________________________________________**

The opening strains of Bon Jovi's "Who Says You Can't Go Home" played through the darkness of the room. Zoe Plummber cracked an eye; the bright blue glow of her actively ringing cell phone assaulted her retina. She sighed, it was her mom calling. It was only 10:30, but she hadn't been to sleep in seventy-two hours (not even light dozing), let alone to bed. She was running on the fumes of stale fumes.

For a fraction of a second Zoe considered just not answering her phone, but she quickly dismissed the idea. It had been a couple of weeks since she'd talked to her mom and Julie Plummber observed the "no calls after 10 pm, unless it's an emergency" rule.

Reaching to the bedside table, Zoe retrieved the offending noise-making machine and flipped it open. "Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Zoe." With that one word, her name, her mother managed to convey all of her anxiety, sadness, fear, and horror.

Zoe sat up fast, she was now wide awake. "Mom, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked urgently.

Zoe vividly remembered the night that she found out her dad had been killed; her mom had sounded exactly like this—said her name exactly the same way. For a moment, she felt as if she'd gone back in time to that dreadful night.

On the other end of the line Julie Plummber sniffed and then took a deep breath before answering. "It's Shane, Zoe."

Her blood ran cold. "He's been shot." Julie stifled a sob.

Zoe had to pull her wits about her. No reason to panic, yet. She needed to get the full report first. "What happened?"

"I don't know much. They said he was on a mission—they wouldn't tell what it was. Then they said something about an office or warehouse or something for reconnaissance —that's what they called it, reconnaissance. Anyway, someone came in and surprised him and…" she broke off and stifled another sob.

Not much info to go on—none at all, really. But there was something more she needed to know. "Where was he hit?" Zoe asked cautiously.

"In the chest, just below the heart."

Chest wound, just below the heart, serious, but not necessarily fatal. "How is he doing?"

"He's in surgery now—they won't tell me where. They don't know for sure, but the doctors think he'll make it."

Zoe felt relief creeping into her body. "Did they tell you what caliber he was shot with?"

"No, they didn't tell me. But it had to be something small, right?"

"Where was his backup?"

At that moment, Zoe became aware of the opening strains of "Who Says You Can't Go Home" playing around her. That was odd; she was already talking to mom.

"I spent 20 years trying to get out of this place  
I was looking for something I couldn't replace  
I was running away from the only thing I've ever known  
Like a blind dog without a bone  
I was a gypsy lost in the twilight zone  
I hijacked a rainbow and crashed into a pot of gold  
I been there, done that and I ain't lookin' back on the seeds I've sown,  
Saving dimes, spending too much time on the telephone  
Who says you can't go home…!" The song played on, now Jennifer Nettles joined in Jon's vocals.

Then, very suddenly, she wasn't in her room anymore. She wasn't talking to her mom on her cell, either. She was on her couch, in her living room. The TV was playing—"The Crow" (the first one, with Brandon Lee). She must've fallen asleep.

Zoe looked at the clock, 8:30. Her cell phone was still ringing. She didn't feel like dealing with the latest family drama at the moment. Better to wait and tackle it in the morning. She'd let it go to voice mail.

Hopefully she could get back to sleep. That dream always rattled her. Because, of course, that wasn't how it had played out that night. Shane _**had**_ been shot, that was true. It had been a chest wound, just under the heart, that was also true. But she hadn't assessed the damage or asked the question about the gun caliber or about his backup. The doctors hadn't been able to save him. His lungs and stomach had filled with blood and he'd basically drown. It took him fifteen minutes to die; he'd been DOA at the hospital.

* * *

**A.N. _I was so surprised that no one else had thought to do a Pacifier/NCIS crossover! So that's my first chapter, what do you think? I am currently working on chapter 2 and hope to have it up soon._**

**_Cheers! KP  
_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Zoe remembered the day she'd decided to go by Abigail (her first name), instead of Zoe (her middle). It was the day after Shane's funeral. A part of her had died along with her father, but Shane had brought her back to life. Now they were both dead and that part of her was gone forever. She was going to start over, as someone new.

She declared her major, forensics—with specialties in ballistics, computers, and psychology. She decided that to avoid any confusion about he father or Shane's demise she'd change her last name to Scuito—her paternal grandmother's maiden name, for whom she was named Abigail (Zoe came from her maternal grandmother, whom she apparently resembled greatly).

When she graduated she had a job waiting for her at NCIS (the Naval Criminal Investigative Service), courtesy of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a man whom she'd helped to solve the murders of five sailors while she'd been at school in Louisiana. They'd both nearly died working that case, helping to forge the close bond they now shared.

After that case Zoe had died her naturally honey blond locks to jet black, in an attempt to hide her identity a bit. There were still bad guys out there that wanted revenge for the justice she'd helped to meat out.

The black hair helped to bring some of her more…gothic tendencies to the forefront, and she'd embraced them wholeheartedly; much to the horror of her mother and sister and the amusement of Gibbs.

Her taste in music had always been eclectic, but when she was at work she tended to blast death metal at high decibels (the only way it could really be enjoyed). Android Lust was a favorite. Death metal wasn't really her favorite type of music (she really didn't have one of those), but it seemed to annoy the powers-that-be at NCIS and she took some sort of perverse pleasure from that. In the car, on the way home, she'd pop in some Cheap Trick, Elvis Costello, or even George Jones or Merle Haggard.

She'd devoted much of her time to learning the martial arts. She now held black belts in Tai Kwon Do, Judo, and Karate, among others. She was a dirty little street fighter and she could shoot anything that was handed to her—and shoot it well.

She _did_ own a coffin, but contrary to scuttlebutt at work, she did _not_ sleep in. It was, in fact, a prop from the mini-series version of "'Salem's Lot". A friend had given it to her as a birthday gift a few years ago. She'd always been crazy about Stephen King and "'Salem's Lot" was one of her favorites. The coffin was one of the best gifts she'd ever received.

But, no, she did not sleep in it. She had a king-size bed just like everyone else. It was an antique wrought–iron and cherry canopy bed; she kept black silk hangings drawn about it most times. She dressed it rich, jewel-like colors, alternating between silk and Egyptian cotton.

The rest of the room was also decorated in rich, jewel-like colors, with dark woods and antique furniture and accents. She had family photos—some black and white, some sepia toned, and some early colors—scattered in key places about the room. It was an inner sanctum that few were permitted to see.

The rest of the small bungalow was decorated in much the same manner, with a slightly more gothic tone. She had framed movie posters and prints hung on her walls. One of her spare bedrooms was set up as a theater room. Her system made Tony go weak in the knees at just the thought of it.

She had 7.1 surround sound and a 52 inch LCD TV that she had rigged to pull up into a recess in the ceiling, revealing a completely smooth, white wall. As the television ascended, a high-tech digital projector descended. Press the number 2 button on her remote and an antique projector from 1910 took the digital's place. It was a rig that Zoe had designed and installed herself.

In addition to her projectors were a Blu-ray player and a VCR.

Three of the walls were painted black and were hung with deafening panels. The one double window was covered in black-out panels and the tin foil was duct-taped to the glass—crude, but effective.

There was a black leather sofa against the far wall, great for making out. She had rows of plush, reclining, leather theatre seating, with cup holders (Tony always _had_ to mention the cup holders).

She had rope lighting set up around the perimeter of the room and down the main aisle between the seating. She had the main lights on dimmers and when they were switched off the rope lighting came on.

A lot of time, work, and money had gone into the room. Movies had been something she and her dad had shared. The room was her way to stay connected to him. She kept the place stocked with all of their favorites… Weird Science, Shane, Tombstone, and hundreds of others.

Her private theatre was almost perfect; it was just missing _one_ more thing… A popcorn machine.

Amidst Zoe's ponderings about her life and surroundings her work phone began playing Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust". In bad taste, maybe, but it made her laugh. She flicked the Motorola open, "Talk to me." She commanded.

"Dead sailor floating in the bay. We need you to process the evidence, Abs." Tony's voice told her.

"'Kay, be there in fifteen."

_Well, no sleep tonight—farewell comfy bed! It's off to work for me!_

_

* * *

_**A.N. This chapter is mostly just filler, but it does have some important information about the Abby/Zoe character. Shane will hopefully be in the next chapter and we will find out what actually happened to him on that mission_,_ I think. So, let me know what you think, please!**

**Cheers!**

**KP  
**


End file.
